Prehistoric Feet

As trite as it can be…I hate my feet.  I do not hate, in general…but i have prehistoric feet!  Much as I do not care about being a model for AARP.   Much as I abhor…classifying persons/people.  Putting beings…being human, in a box of good physical attributes and/or bad.


Much as the world will tell me one thing and I unlike, the automated voice on the end of a bill collectors call; Will immediately begin to take the other’s side.  Much as all this, and more…I am okay with hating my feet.

9 Stories – JD Salinger


I see you are looking at my feet,” he said to her when car was in motion.
“I beg your pardon?” said the woman.
“I said I see you’re looking at my feet”.
“I beg your pardon. I happened to be looking at the floor,” said the woman, and faced the doors of the car.
“If you want to look at my feet, say so,” said the young man. “But don’t be a God-damned sneak about it.”
“Let me out here, please,” the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car.
The car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back.
“I have two normal feet and I can’t see the slightest God-damned reason why anybody should stare at them,” said the young man.


Some days it would appear that nonsense…Is the only sense that shines through!



Who’s your Daddy?

A dreamer's mind is not thread bare...It is filled with charm, chaos, mayhem. It is stamped, Handle with Care!
A dreamer’s mind is not thread bare…It is filled with charm, chaos, mayhem. It is stamped, Handle with Care!

There is nothing a daughter wants more than to be able to give back…to her parents!  It has been my pleasure to do so for approximately, 6 years, 114 days, 22 hours and 7 minutes.  But who is counting?

And, though, it has been a learning experience; the in’s and out’s of aging, frivolity among the elderly and loving the bratty senior..I would on some occasions be willing to exchange those spurts of growth with say…being housed in a small confined space with an angry, in heat, feral cat.

For example, the other day, whilst picking up assorted, snort rags, mouth rags and handi-wipes…because my father’s OCD, has gone un-medicated; I discovered a Parenting magazine.  This piece of literature may have its place in a newborn’s home.  What it was doing in stacked against National Geographic and AARP’s special Oscar issue, is anybody guess.

Matter of fact, I am still curious and after addressing the issue with my mother.

“What’s up with the Parenting magazine?  Are you pregnant?”

Mom’s quick reply?

“Oh, that?  I don’t know where it comes from.  We get it every month.  Not sure why!”


I have noticed the more direct the question with my parents…the increased possibility of evasiveness occurs.  Almost the same kind of behavior portrayed by myself…as a rebel without a cause…teenager.

The above mentioned situation lead me to think of various other things…I should understand but, simply, do not.

  •  People who drive their motorcycles in the winter time.  Now, I get it, in New Hampshire there just is not enough sunlight and warmth.  And, after you’ve just put 5,000 down on the new Harley…riding is all you want to do.  However, it is often been said,

“The most deadly combination known to man is low IQ and high testosterone.”
Jarod Kintz

  •   Daylight savings?!  What does that even mean?  No one really knows what time it is anyway.  And, those of us over forty, are not particular fond of how quickly time flies.  I say, leave it alone.  Every time it happens I have to go out and buy a new cheap digital watch from Wal-Mart.
  •    Went missing?  The other day, unfortunately, a small child went missing…channel 9 reported!  What does that even mean?  If you go somewhere, you went there.  If you miss placed your bong…it is gone…M.I.A.  There is no in between!  The child did not specifically to the beater car, to be missing…A car that was running with the windows up.   If the sentence were to make sense.  It would need to go like this:Lucinda Lou went to the 89′ Chevy Cavalier without exhaust.  She went there to be missing.  Lucinda Lou’s mother concurs,  when the child went there to the car, something was missing.

Go figure!stupid 1

  •   Felonious sexual assault!  Cut it out!  Rape is rape is rape.  Why must we be so politically correct?  Are we attempting not to insult the sensibilities of a…rapist?
  •  The River dance, Celtic woman, Blue Man group and Trans Siberian orchestra?  If any of these groups are one of your favorites…Most likely, you are reading the wrong blog!  Can you say, ‘pass me an Ambien and let’s call it a day?’
  •  Who’s your daddy?  I know where my daddy is.  He’s sleeping at stop light somewhere.  Yet, another perk of senior sitting!  Who is he?  He’s the asshole arguing with Concord P.D., stating, ‘laws are always up to interpretation!’


Just the other day, my father, who is one of the most intelligent people I know.  Claimed…

‘Have Ruth open the skylight.  She should be able to reach it!’

My father also has some issues with lucidity and stubbornness!

I stated,

‘Yeah, I’m about three inches taller than dad!’

Father follows with…

‘What’d you mean?  I go to the gym once a week.  Been doing up to ten sit-ups!  I’ve lost five pounds…I’m taller!  Almost your height!’

What does that even mean? My father wasn’t even the same height before senior shrinkage happened.   Does this mean that weight is not actually lost?  It just puts on an inch or two?  Perhaps, he meant to say,

My height, my weight and my sanity…went missing.  For further information consult your latest subscription to Parenting magazine!


stupid 2

Life on Life’s Terms

The Story of



Middle Age: Mistaking imagination for memory!
Middle Age:
Mistaking imagination for memory!

I know better now…

I did not know better


Middle Age and Pissed

7 reasons why-

  1. No longer do I tolerate persons who block both gas pumps with their Toyota Prius...Or whatever other, hybrid  that could fit it in my glove compartment, car. It is too cold. I am too old.  Typically, these persons are overweight, looking to by a scratch ticket on their EBT card and just coming down from huffing Gliden paint the night before.  Yet, to be honest, time…after forty…is of the essence and I don’t want to spend it staring down the crack of Dawn!

  2. It has been said time and time again, medicine bottles are a bitch! The only small children I have are on four legs! And, if my cat or dog are pill popping from a cabinet four feet up…I have more to worry about than their addiction to Pepto Bismo!

    ##Safety caps have gone the way of the dinosaur! Let’s face it, Tylenol, Johnson and Johnson and NyQuil…Small adults, which is what these little rodents are, can break into these little drug dens…far better than middle aged adults.

    I have to put a wrist splint on for Christ’s sake…just to take my arthritis medication!

  3. Sport Bras and their cousins, thermal underwear, leggings and form fitting workout pants!

    I watched myself the other day…guess I never took the time before, put on a large, built for women with line backer shoulders, sport bra! It looked sad! Down right discouraging. I had to finish the seizure like activity by sitting down on the commode…go figure? Beware Danskin…there maybe a lawsuit in your future. I pulled a neck muscles and tore my rota-tor cuff! And, as noted above, I couldn’t even break into the Advil bottle to relieve the pain…

    ‘Mind your Meds…as they say!’

  4. Young people and Old Farts. Young people? It obvious to me that there is some sort of conspiracy going on between the electronic industry and persons under the age of thirty five. Bruce Springsteen once spoke of the rage over channel surfing...57 channels and nothing on!

    RandomwordbyRuth would like to up this ante by saying…

    Your electronic device and it’s lights are on but no one is home!

    More so than the young-in’s…the seniors are really starting to piss me off! I want my AARP! Give me my green stamps, large dial cell phone and bought by disability Harley now!

    Once a month I take my mother to the movies. Once a month I sit back and watch her scold her way into having the movie theater pay her to come see the movie. Senior Discount. Catholic Daughter’s of the America’s gift certificate, downloaded app from AARP allowing all persons 65 and up to see R-rated movies…if it is a late matinee!  What next?  If you have two canes and an ugly Christmas sweater…just take a selfie and you’ll be eligible for a year’s worth of free movies!

  5. Of course, the sundry of foods we can no longer eat…grows with each not passing bowel movement we can not have!

    Peanuts…sit like little acorns ready for a harvest in my large intestine.

    Hard Candy…further ensnarement that teeth do not span the passage of time…That is unless they are removable!

    Buttery Popcorn…You might as well grab a copy of that AARP magazine you stole from the doctor’s office, an electronic cigarette and kiss your partner ‘good-bye’ for the day. Forward all calls to the bathroom! The Queen is in waiting on the throne!

  6. DVD’s! As one grows older, they collect memorabilia. Personally, I watch movies. Old or new, a good two hours of make believe takes away the worries of the day. As we grow older, however, junk/bad movies/ boring trinkets find themselves under the category of…memorabilia.

    I have kept track…there have been 6 years, 3 hours and 32 seconds of watching  DVDs’ I should have thrown away from the get go. Burn after watching..the first time, idiot! I am not wise or young enough to remember that a movie with Kim Basinger, playing a thirty year old mother running around a town avoiding a run in with nameless teenage male actors who have taken her 6 year daughter, is something I should have passed by at the Dollar Store!

  7. Being gay! So much fanfare about this nowadays. Years ago, it was a sin…now it is ‘in’…

    What I really wished? Raised Catholic, in a semi rural state, with parental units that believed in the virtue of it’s Adam and Eve…not Adam and Steve...

    I really wished, no matter the environment and woman’s instinctual need to please, I had put my big girl panties on…sooner!

    That, even now, it is not a matter of who you go to bed with! But that there are so many bigger fish to fry. Am I a good person? Am I charitable? Do I do for others?

    ‘Not, gee, I should hide Liz in the closet before my father picks me up for spring break. Don’t want him to think I’m a queer!’

    Post Script:

    My father and mother both knew I was a queer…Long before I came out of the closet at 18. They actually breathed a sigh of relief and asked if I was ready to get down to the business of


    Wherever you go...there you are
    Wherever you go…there you are

A New Hampsha Swan Song

If New Hampshire had a winter’s tale to brag about.  A lyrical satirical version of the not so iced down truth.  A poem set to a beat of a different dumb but forgotten drummer…I’d like to think it would go something like this-

New Hampsha’s fifty shade of under the weather

Big plow trucks keep turning…

Carrying me home to see my too much time in the shade friends

Singing songs about the Forgetten Ice land

I miss the Old Man once again

And, yes, I think that is what this over populated with too many righteous catholics state would call a sin

Well I heard mister Scott Brown sing about our old Sir

Well I heard ole Scott put his bid in to run things up the political flag pole

Nothing worse than the winter time blues

Well I hope dear Scott will remember

A New Hampshire resident isn’t a senator by just by being a Masshole

(and New Hampshire isn’t his home town anyhow)

Sweet Shut IN state New Hampshire

Where the skies are such a sweet suicidal gray

Sweet Shut IN state New Hampshire

Lord, my feet are a weird tone of blue

In Concord they love to hire a geriatric legislature (boo, boo, boo)

All us youngster did what we could do

Now electing Alzheimer’s victims to run the show does not bother me

Does your Obama-care cover you?

Tell the truth

Sweet Shut IN state New Hampshire

Where the skies are such a sweet suicidal gray

Sweet Shut IN state New Hampshire

Lord, my feet are a weird tone of blue

Now Aerosmith has hit the big time

And they’ve been known to blow a line or two

Lord they could qualify for AARP

They pick me up when I’m feeling hell has frozen over and rigor mortis is nothing new

Now how bout you?

Sweet Shut IN state New Hampshire

Where the skies are such a sweet suicidal gray

Sweet Shut IN state New Hampshire

Lord, my feet are a weird tone of blue

Sweet home New Hampsha

Oh, frozen tundra

Where the townsfolk are so depressed and screwed

And the weather is 50 shades of below zero

And we are all mushrooms held in closet

Dark, closeted and fed a lot of bullshit too!